


a trainee's story

by skytime (inliar)



Category: TREASURE (Korea Band)
Genre: Gen, a little sad but i wouldn’t call it angst, mentions of kpop star, mentions of that stray kids show, mentions of treasure box, treasure's odg interview
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26262397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inliar/pseuds/skytime
Summary: "he pauses to think, and he’s ten years old again."a small interview question from a lonely child sends yedam back through memory lane as he recalls the difficulties of his journey to debut.alternatively, yedam through the ages.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	a trainee's story

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by and set within treasure's odg interview. this is very much just fiction, so anything the other characters say or yedam thinks almost certainly never happened. all other characters besides yedam are just mentioned.

“umm … i don’t want to give up, but i keep thinking that i’m alone. what should i do when i feel that way?” she asks, quietly.

yedam knows, with full certainty, that he needs to answer this. if they weren’t instructed to stay in their positions and stare at nothing before the shoot, he was certain that half of his team would be looking at him right now.

“for me …” he starts, wanting to claim the question. “when i was young …”

he pauses to think, and he’s ten years old again. he’s standing on an impossibly large stage, holding a mic stand, in front of three incredibly intimidating people he’d only ever seen before on tv. he’s nervous, for sure, but assured in his love for music and the comforting presence of his dad is by his side.

he’s ten years old, and he’s out performing people ten years older than him. he uses the thrill of winning, of being chosen, to mask the voice in the back of his head that says he only made it this far because he’s a child. the judges have to go easy on a child. how could they not?

that voice sounds an awful lot like one of his competitors complaints, echoing in a tiny bathroom while yedam quietly sits inside a stall and listens. ‘that hyung is gone now,’ yedam reminds himself, trying to ignore the sick little feeling in his stomach. but his voice is still very, very loud. yedam hates its volume, but hates how easily it sticks in his head even more. 

he wins second place, but it’s much higher than he ever dreamed to hope for. much more than he’s worthy of. to top it off, his family gets a call. it’s from YG, one of the judges. a recruitment call. high off of the joy of being chosen, yet again, yedam says yes.

he’s ten years old, and he’s officially a YG trainee.

he’s twelve years old, and he’s nothing but an object. a pretty, singing, toy that all of the older trainees are absolutely enamoured by. yedam craves connection, craves the warmth that all his hyungs provide, and he doesn’t mind being a perfect little doll if he gets friendships out of it.

(the older ones aren’t intimidated by him. they know the age gap is far too large for them to ever debut together. this small child, as talented as he was, was not a threat to their potential debut. their time would be coming soon, very soon. the younger ones are more wary. 

twelve year olds don’t see these things. eighteen year olds looking back on their pasts do.)

he’s fourteen years old, and all of his older hyungs have debuted. they’re far too busy with their schedules and successes to spend their precious time entertaining him. but yedam understands. he remembers what it’s like to be so busy you barely have the time to breathe, and he could never resent them. not when they look so happy preparing for their stages. yedam quietly notes the closeness, the togetherness, of the groups who practice together, and he resolves to make it into a team if only to experience the same caliber of joy.

he knows the next boy group to debut is his chance. he’s been preparing for four years by now, and he’s willing to prepare for another four if that’s what it takes to earn his chance. he perfects his singing, greedily absorbing any advice and techniques the vocal trainers offer him, and studies for school on the side. yedam was raised to try his hardest in everything that he does, and he lives that out as best as he can. his parents, his teachers, his trainers, (essentially, anyone who can take claim to a part of his inevitable future success) are ecstatic. the trainees and his classmates are less so.

it was alright in the beginning of the year, shortly after his new classmates had gotten over the novelty of having a quote-unquote ‘celebrity’ in their midst. they were kind enough to treat him as if he was one of them, and not some sort of perfect idol.

“we’re going to a computer room before cram school, do you want to come?” one would offer. but yedam would always have to refuse. even if he really wanted to say yes, all of his free time was taken up by dance classes and vocal lessons and academies. after the first few rejections, his classmates learned not to invite him anymore, and treated him with a little more distance. it was on those days that yedam had to remind himself that it was worth it. he had always wanted to become a singer, and his dream hadn’t changed. it was worth it.

… right?

he’s fifteen years old and he’s famous all over again. untouchable all over again. just a few short months prior he’d been (more or less) just another trainee, but after his appearance on the stray kids survival show and his subsequent, rapid, rise to fame, he became less of a person and more of a story.

it wasn’t fair, yedam thought at the time, pouting. it wasn’t like he was the only YG trainee there who emerged from kpop star; raesung also made an appearance and he did remarkably well. he rearranged their entire vocal unit cover song. why he didn’t go viral? seunghun, too, was clearly and openly praised by JYP himself, but he didn’t get much media attention. why did yedam? it’s not that he didn’t appreciate the praise - in a dark, greedy, crevice of his mind, he treasures the thrill of being chosen - but he didn’t appreciate its consequences. 

the other trainees were not so rude as to exclude him or refuse to help him. but yedam could tell they didn’t see him as an equal. whether it was a fellow trainee jokingly complaining about having his vocal lesson right after yedam (“it’s not fair, he raises the bar so high that i sound bad even on a good day”) or shying away from preparing monthly evaluations with him (“if i perform with yedam, there’s no way the evaluators will notice me”), they always in some way lifted him up on this impossibly high pedestal. yedam was never afraid of heights, but he’s always been afraid of being alone.

at points like these when yedam’s worries grew too much, he would remind himself. ‘yedam,’ his consciousness would say, quietly. ‘you have been blessed with so many opportunities. remember how you were casted? remember how you were chosen over so many other people? isn’t it amazing? you really are so lucky.’ 

through small, steady, sessions like these, yedam quietly learns to overpower his worries with happier mantras. he could never fully stop the tidbits of stress from appearing in his head like annoying, incessant pop up ads, but he could stop himself from outwardly expressing it, and he could learn to think about everything with a more optimistic light. if he wanted to be a successful singer, he couldn’t just be yedam, the stressed fifteen year old who complained despite being successful. he couldn't even be yedam, the middle school student. he had to become yedam, YG’s singer. so he slowly began to prepare that identity. this way, he’d be all the more ready for the day he actually debuts.

he’s sixteen years old and his chance has finally arisen. like many other well known groups, it starts with a tv show; a survival show, to be exact. “treasure box, to symbolize how the CEO himself sees you all as precious treasures,” the coordinator had explained. yedam’s trainee life had started because of a tv show, so it would be fitting if his idol life began from a tv show as well.

this chance is much more important than a monthly evaluation. an unlimited number of trainees can be chosen to stay in the company, but only a limited number can be chosen to debut. yedam is wise and mature enough to know not to express his worries out loud (he did it once and was only told that he was guaranteed to debut, what with his “fame” and his skill set, so he had no reason to worry in the first place) but he didn’t want to take this rare opportunity for granted. so, he practices hard, performs to the very best of his abilities, and eventually gets chosen. in theory, it’s a simple, predictable sequence that plays out exactly the way it says it will.

but the entertainment business is never that simple.

yedam runs through the steps, but he also watches his fellow trainees break down and cry in between. he watches some get eliminated, and watches others choose to leave. he watches many, sitting by themselves in nervous anticipation, too anxious and broken to seek the comfort of someone else. he recognizes those emotions well. he’d experienced them all at some point in his trainee life. but he’d never learned how to comfort someone else experiencing them. probably because he spent more time comforting himself then he ever did letting someone else comfort him. the perils of an individualistic being. 

he does his best, though, and he’s pleasantly surprised when people eventually begin to come to him for advice. yedam’s been through a lot in his young age, and he has just enough experience in almost every aspect of growing up that he’s able to share his opinions and concerns to everyone who asks. it’s through other’s struggles that yedam gets to grow closer to the trainees he’d never worked with before, and closer to the ones he thought he always knew.

some stayed, some left, and in the end they were left with thirteen. treasure and magnum, two groups with one heart. more than yedam expected. more than yedam could have ever dreamed of. he felt ridiculously guilty thinking that only seven at most could debut, so learning that more of his precious, precious friends could experience their dream with him fills him with an inexplicable amount of joy. he looks at them and sees the beginning of a new chapter of his life. the community he’d always been dreaming of. he lets the vestiges of hope take root in his heart, because nothing could possibly go wrong now.

except he’s seventeen years old and they’re left with twelve.

nothing happens. they need to train more. “you’re not ready yet, but soon.” their coordinator promises. he’s just optimistic enough to focus on the ‘soon’, but just pessimistic enough to remember the ‘yet’ as well. 

he’s eighteen years old and he’s done it. he’s made it. he’s debuted.

it’s a whirlwind of practices, live stages, and driving to multiple different shooting sets. the backbone of the entertainment industry is the media, so treasure gets dragged to appear in what feels like an endless amount of various interviews and youtube videos. but he still prefers the live stages the best. the feeling of singing and dancing, performing on a stage, is something that is uniquely and wholly his and nobody can take it away from him. he’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t mind the cameras all pointing towards him.

but today, he’s standing somewhere he hasn’t stood before; behind the cameras. he’ll be walking in front of them shortly, but the directors are filming a short segment with the kid who will be interviewing them first.

“chan, today you are going to meet a group who is debuting soon.” one of the PD’s says, softly, kindly. “what do you want to ask them when you see them?”

he’d casually watched a few odg interviews to prepare himself for this moment, but most of them involved the celebrity asking questions first, and then letting them ask questions back. this time, it’ll be a girl interviewing them right from the get go. he knows that children can be wiser and more knowledgeable than many adults, but he also doesn’t expect what the girl says next. 

“since they were trainees before, i want to ask them how to overcome hard times? since i’m an athlete, i have a lot of moments where i feel worn out. but because i’m young, i don’t really know how to overcome those situations. so i want to ask that.” he hears her voice say, slowly, carefully.

he recognizes that tone. it’s the tone of a girl trying to be completely in control of her life. the tone of a girl who is already beginning to master composure and caution. the tone of a girl who grew up a little faster than she should have. he knows it, because he hears that tone every single time he speaks. he hates that tone.

if yedam had a second chance at his life, he would surely make all the same choices he made before. but he would never wish his path on someone else. he had the fortune and luck to find happiness, but it was much harder to find then it should have been.

the director cues them, and with a signal from jihoon they march into the shooting area in their respective lines. hyunsuk does a great job at answering all the simpler questions, and in turn responds to the more personal ones with incredible ease. it’s times like these that yedam is grateful that hyunsuk is one of the leaders. he often knows the right thing to say.

jihoon, with the right amount of kindness that should be directed at a child, manages to coax the conversation towards her. yedam finally puts a name to the face - kim chan, age fourteen, aspiring figure skater - and learns a little more about how she feels. she shares about herself with an impressive amount of control. it’s just enough to be honest and express her struggles, without being repetitive or convoluted; all while still sounding distinctly human and having a little of her own voice. 

“to be honest, i don’t have the physical structure for sports.” chan admits. “because of it, i’ve fallen behind the others and those are the moments when i always think, ‘why am i doing this?’”

yedam’s biggest surprise of the day comes from junghwan piping up to respond. in moments like these, the younger members tended to remain silent. yedam could never tell if it was because they felt inexperienced or because they truly had nothing to say, but nevertheless it was a pleasant surprise to hear his response. 

“i also did sports for quite a while,” junghwan starts, cautiously yet confidently. “i’ve done taekwondo since i was in kindergarten. i also didn’t have the physical structure for sports, but i continued with it and, naturally, i gained the strength for it. so, kim chan, if you continue with it as well, you’ll have good results.”

yoshinori shares about his high school diploma exams and urges her not to give up, which evidently causes chan to pause.

“umm … i don’t want to give up, but i keep thinking that i’m alone. what should i do when i feel that way?” she asks, quietly.

yedam knows, with full certainty, that he needs to answer this. 

“for me …” he starts, wanting to claim the question. “when i was young …”

he takes a second to think back on his past. everything he had experienced. everything he had learned. every single way he had grown.

“when i was young, i went on an audition program. and afterwards, i became a trainee at quite an early age. and because i started at such an early age, i had to make another identity for myself.”

yedam the YG singer. he’d absolutely mastered that identity. at first, the title felt a little too big, like oversized shoes your parents buy for you to grow into, but it became such a crucial part of who he is.  
“through that process i felt alone a lot, but i also feel like those months made me more mature as well.”

he recalls his little positive mantra he recited every single time he felt alone. yedam always remembered to count his blessings, and then count them again whenever he thought they weren’t enough. with maturity comes wisdom, and he figures that choosing to focus on the brighter things is a type of wisdom in itself.

“so when you feel alone, try to make that a time to reflect on yourself and think of it more in a positive way? then that loneliness can become happier.” yedam finishes, satisfied. 

the interview progresses into a performance and ends, but it doesn’t quite leave yedam’s mind even as he’s in the company van, being driven back to the dorms. the entire ordeal was a little sad and desperate. it was a fourteen year old girl asking someone, who she knew struggled, the extent of his pain. and then it was a fourteen year old girl, full of hopes and dreams, asking for a result. ‘but was it worth it?’ she seemed to ask behind all her placid questions, eager and wide eyed and dewy and hopeful.

yedam looked at her and saw someone with light. he thinks back on all his pain.

was it worth it?

‘yes,’ he says in his head, hopes he conveyed in his answer, and he smiles. because, at the end of the day, it was.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! comments are appreciated!


End file.
